[Rynthall Estate, Grand Duke's Office]
At the Rynthall Estate, all was still.
Grand Duke Silas sat behind his massive oak desk, the early afternoon sunlight pouring through the tall windows behind him, casting long golden stripes across the stacked papers. He hadn't moved in some time—his eyes locked on a particular intelligence report, though he'd read the same line at least three times and retained none of it.
His thoughts were… foggy.
He leaned back in his chair slowly, long fingers lifting to rub the space between his brows. His usually impeccable hair had come loose at the temple, a few dark strands falling into his eyes. The collar of his shirt was undone, revealing a sliver of his chest, and his black coat was draped neatly over the back of the chair, as if abandoned in a moment of weariness.
Something had been gnawing at him for days.
A tension under his ribs. A pressure in the air. As if something—someone—was approaching.
And then—
Knock knock.
